


Rescue

by uridasimana



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F, Mystery, joy is enticing, lowkey angst, sad yeri, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 13:47:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17643977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uridasimana/pseuds/uridasimana
Summary: She takes me to a coffee shop (“This coffee’s way better than yours, Yeri, I’m sorry.”), takes me through the market place (“There’s candy floss in your hair!” She pulled it out, I wanted to kiss her sugarcoated lips), takes me back to the pier and we watch the waves and she’s in love with the sea and I’m in love with her.orYerim is lonely and works at a train station, Sooyoung finds her and brings light to her dull life





	Rescue

_Cold lips against mine remind me of why I am alive._

 

I announce the price and flash a false smile to the middle-aged woman, dimpled and all. Smiling at each and every customer is no obligation, but I do it every time without fail, no matter how forced.

She fumbles for her purse. The train hums and bumps and I keep a hand wrapped around her coffee cup to keep it from spilling as she scrapes change from the corners of her stained petal-patterned purse. She’s murmuring a “thank you”, discreetly slipping the chocolate bar into her bag like it’s a shameful secret, and hobbling off back to her seat without a second glance.

I’m back to staring at the passing trees and rolling fields. The weather is miserable today. It hasn’t rained, not for weeks.

Days spent on a railway train has put me in the mindset of being unable to sit still. I’m using to movement, snaking through the country all day, the wind and train noises being a white noise to me. It’s been my routine ever since.... ever since that day. I clean things that don’t need to be cleaned and drum my fingers and jitter my knees. I used to smile hopefully at passing passengers en route to the bathroom but an unreturned smile every time made me quickly drop that habit. It gets lonely waiting for a soul to connect with. It gets lonely waiting for each destination each day.

I never get to hop off the train steps at Seoul or Busan or Daegu. I never get to see the sights they are zooming across the country to see. I watch the young, eager children hanging onto hands as they kick the sideboards and stare at the strangers sitting around them. I watch writers, hunched up in their seats scribbling in notebooks and gazing out at the whiz of the surroundings as they pause to gather their thoughts. I see the couples, hand intertwined in hand, a head on a shoulder as they giggle quietly together, eyes hazy with love. I travel with them until I hop off the train steps at my same destination. I never get to see the sights they get to.

Today’s different. I see it in her eyes. She’s laughing, eyes forming crescents and her fingers gracing her chin. I’m found fumbling with the coffee machine for the first time. I forget her simple order, my mind preoccupied with her perfectly aligned pearly whites and shiny hair, a deep contrast against her creamy skin. She laughs again. I lean into the sound. I slide her the coffee and our fingers brush, hers cold from the air outside. She has her coffee, I have her €1.99, yet neither of us move. She’s twirling the fringes of her scarf, a smile plays on her pink lips. A secret smile to me as she leaves to her seat.

The train is nearing the station and I smile shyly as she stops again at the counter. She’s cocking her head, eyes enciting.

‘You ever seen Jeju?’

I shake my head no, because I never see anything but a slither of the world from the train window. Her eyebrows are raised comically but her mouth is unable to hide her excitement, she’s gripping my arm atop the counter before I realise and my body awakens with trembling adrenaline. Her eyes are asking but I can’t, I _can’t_ , I shake my head again, biting my lip with regret. Her face falls, her mouth pouts like a young child’s, her fingers loosen. She’s visibly deflated but nods in understanding.

We seem to be at a loss. The train is slowing. She nibbles at her plump lips, slips her bag further onto her shoulder. Turns her body towards the sliding doors, her eyes still trained on mine.

‘I’ll be back next week.’

Her voice, amongst hope and finality. I nod at the counter, terrified to look. Terrified to share a farewell gaze. Terrified it’ll be the last time. It’s always the last time.

She’s gone and the train is lurching forward and amongst the coins once cupped in her hand still on the counter is a tiny puddle and someone else is standing in her place.

-•-

The sun is failing to make its presence known in the cloudy sky and the drizzle is on and off. It hasn’t rained, not for weeks.

I start to see the same people. My shifts become longer and more frequent. I’m sometimes scheduled an entire day. I try to ignore the fact that I’m still waiting, because as each day trudges it’s pathetic because I realise a month has passed.

I’m cleaning out the coffee machine again with the belief settling heavily in that I’m never going to see her again when I turn and drop the washcloth because the real sun that orbits my conscience has made its presence known and is standing on the other side of the counter.

She’s as beautiful as I remember. The real thing is even better. A sight for my sore, tired eyes. Her hair is shorter and her lips a cherry red.

‘Sorry,’ she smiles. ‘I was busy.’

She knows she promised a week and I’ve got no sleep for all four of them but I shake my head to show her it’s fine (I can’t seem to find my voice.) I move forward, unknowing what to say now that she’s finally here.

‘C-Coffee?’ I whisper. A laugh escapes her crimson lips and I’m healed. She’s leaning forward, chin atop her hand on the counter despite the uncomfortable angle.

‘How about a coffee with your name on it? That’d be divine.’

I immediately turn to hide my hot cheeks and grin because _damn that was smooth_ and fiddle with the buttons, my fingers trembling. I’m nauseous from the butterflies. The coffee’s made and the the sharpie left lidless in my rush to slide it across the counter to her. She peers at the side of the cup and grins at me.

‘Cute. Can I call you Yeri?’

_Oh, God, yes._

-•-

Her hand’s in mine, dragging me through the streets. She hasn’t stopped talking and I haven’t stopped listening. Her eyes sparkle and her cheeks are red from the wind. The grey sea is grim and the air icy and sharp but my hand is warm and my pounding heart warmer.

She takes me to a coffee shop (“This coffee’s way better than yours, Yeri, I’m sorry.”), takes me through the market place (“There’s candy floss in your hair!” She pulled it out, I wanted to kiss her sugarcoated lips), takes me back to the pier and we watch the waves and she’s in love with the sea and I’m in love with her.

Night is falling and the temperature is dropping and I suddenly remember the trains will soon stop and I’ll have no way to get home. Her eyes widen when I ask her if there are any B&B’s local in case I don’t make it.

“B&B? No, Yeri, you can stay with me.”

My heart lurches and I’m grateful for the pier wall or I might have ended up fainted in the inky sea.

Her place is welcoming and homey. It’s a penthouse apartment overlooking the vast sea and smells of the sweet warmth I get whenever we are close enough. The smell that makes me want to bury myself into her and breathe her in.

She makes tea and offers macaroni and cheese (from last night). I’m starving but shake my head because I can’t bother her. I perch on the edge of her cream leather sofa and gingerly sip my Earl Grey and smile politely at the miniature fluffy white dog watching me cautiously from the corner.

A Disney movie plays on the television. She’s singing along to the songs, her voice like honey and sickly sweet, a lullaby I could sleep to. The moon hangs low in the sky. I’m wrapped in a blanket I didn’t ask for, my stomach has never stopped churning and I glance at her every 15 seconds to make sure she is really there. We’re sitting close, my knee a hair from gracing her thigh. It takes everything to hold myself back.

She laughs loudly and the dog lifts its head, and so do I. The movie’s over and the end credits are daunting us with the awkwardness that follows. She switches off the television before I’m ready and turns her head to me.

“You wanna sleep on my bed or the couch?”

I frown. Is that even a question? The couch. This is her home, her bed. I’m only intruding. Her simple acts of kindness speak volumes on my lonely heart and I feel reduced to tears.

She stands up and the dog takes a running jump. She shrieks and somehow ends up on the floor. I can’t keep from laughing. I cover my mouth and my eyes are squinted shut and I laugh and laugh and it feels amazing. Tears squeeze out. I wipe them away, giddy and hysterical. She’s watching me from the floor, eyes and mouth open in disbelief and pure bliss.

“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” she comments.

We ready for bed. She lends me blankets and pillows and pyjamas no matter how much I refuse. She insists on peanut butter toast and another cup of tea. She offers a hot water bottle, another hair bobbin even though my hair is short. She moves the dog’s bed into her bedroom to leave me in peace. Her simple acts of kindness speak volumes. I’m reduced to tears, and I silently cry myself to sleep.

-•-

“€4.99. Would you like a newspaper with your coffee?”

“No, thank you, deary,” the woman smiles, laden down with three children. I smile at one of the girls, staring at me with painfully familiar bright eyes.

“I’ve heard about you, you know,” the woman says, taking the chocolates and distributing them to each child accordingly. “My wife always sees you when she takes the train to Seoul on weekdays. Do you work here full time?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply. “I’ve worked here nearly two years now.”

“Wow,” she bristles. “And you’re so young! Are you a dropout? Or maybe you have someone waiting back at home?” she asks, eyes squinted playfully. I smile politely.

“No. I’m just earning a living for myself, ma’am.”

“Ah, yes of course. Well, I wish you the best of luck.” She’s already being dragged away by the oldest boy, clamouring for the window seat.

“You too, ma’am,” I respond monogynously.

Another puddle appears on the counter and I laugh at myself foolishly. 

-•-

Six months pass and I’ve given up.

My stomach clenched every time the train stopped at Jeju but it always left missing the passenger I was hopeful for. I tell myself to move on, no matter how much it hurts. She already has.

My shift is ending early and the last stop is Jeju. The longer I stare at the waiting door, the more time I waste. I sigh and I’m about to turn away when my eyes catch a familiar looking miniature fluffy white dog trotting down the street towards the pier.

I don’t blink twice before I grab my jacket and the chase the pier. The air is icy and sharp and my hair tumbles from my neat bun. I target the dog and swallow my fear and scoop her up. She fusses and struggles but I hold on tight. I’m panting, staring at the wood planks, the waves, the stalls, the fun fair. I run to the end and back, I stand where she watched the waves and I watched her. I turn street corners and pass every single market stall where candy floss stuck to my hair and sugary lips were the closest to mine. I find the coffee shop where the coffee is better and peer into the glass. I run and wheeze and collapse on a street bench, in vain. The dog stares at me in mockery.

There’s one place I have not checked. One place where I know is where I’ll find her but I am terrified. Terrified it’ll be the last time.

I find it easily and stare up at the hidden windows and my heart pounds a heavy presence in my chest. I take a deep breath and force my cold fingers to pull open the heavy door. They shakily hover before the buttons before I look away and punch the room number.

“Hello?”

My knees nearly give way from the sound of her voice. I’m trying to breathe and I can’t. I put my mouth to the receiver, and whisper my nickname. Her nickname. 

Minutes pass but I don’t move. I don’t think I could if I tried. I nearly catch myself burying my nose in the white fur.

Suddenly I hear lift doors and I nearly throw up my stomach. Footsteps near me. I can’t bear to look. Her presence, so clearly heavy in the room. A hand touches my shoulder and it sends a spark through my whole body. I’m being turned and we lock eyes and my face crumples. She sees the dog and gasps in disbelief. The dog fights for her arms and she nuzzles into her fur.

”Haetnim,” she murmurs in a sigh.

She looks back at me. She’s smiling, her eyes forming crescents and her fingers stroking my chin. I forget my own name, my mind preoccupied with her perfectly aligned pearly whites and shiny hair, a deep contrast against her creamy skin. She laughs. I lean into the sound. Our fingers brush, hers warm from her cosy apartment. She has her dog back, I have done my duty, yet neither of us move. She’s twirling the fringes of my scarf, a smile plays on her pink lips.

“Yeri,” she breathes. “You came.”

There’s so much I want to say but I get lost in the sound of her voice. I get lost in her eyes, piercing into mine. I get lost in her hands, gripping me tightly like she can never let go.

She leans forward, and cold lips against mine remind me of why I am alive.


End file.
